


Snowbound

by kritter



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 07:02:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20305384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kritter/pseuds/kritter
Summary: Gavin and Connor get snowed in on a case and try to deal accordingly. Mild fluff if you squint.





	Snowbound

Gavin wasn’t exactly the type to try to and redeem himself, as he didn’t find anything inherently _wrong_ with his actions, with the background of being raised to take what you can get and then some. Destroying Connors one by one like pins in the way of a bowling alley, he’d made a bit of an _impression_ on the team; not one that particularly mattered, as Connors were so easily replaceable, but one that was noticed by the entire department, including Connor itself. For an android that was supposed to lack a personality, it’d began holding a disposition in regard to him and him alone that it didn’t share with the rest of them. Hank had been warming up to it, but occasionally Connor was allowed to switch between partners for the pure sake of _more help_ once Hank was getting back on his feet and back into the work routine, even if he didn’t consider it so much of an _accomplishment,_ himself; whatever paid the bills, he begrudgingly told himself every time to talk himself out of quitting the job and walking out, even on the worst of days.

Working with Gavin was different for Connor, practically a Hank and a half in regards to his explosive personality, including the scapegoating, constant nagging and pushing made Anderson pale in comparison in the android’s synthetic psyche, and it personally saw no real use in helping someone that thoroughly refused it; but per usual, Cyberlife’s programming superseded any other order, and as such, it followed what it was naturally designed to do, even if it wasn’t always what it was _told_ to do. Their current situation was no exception.

-

“Well, my phone’s busted, we’re in the middle of nowhere and the cruiser is as good as dead.” They’d been set up, and he was _furious,_ having come back to the police car only to find the four tires slashed and something in the console ripped out that he assumed played major part to its functionality, considering he couldn’t even turn the thing on.

“You’re hooked up to all that shit, right? Maybe you can radio signal someone over?” Connor shook its head.

“We’re too far from any towers, so my WiFi connection is virtually nonexistent though I have continued to ping in an attempt.” Frankly, Connor was tempted to pursue the deviant or attacker on its own, as it held no regard for human lives, but was unfortunately directed to work with Gavin and thus accepted it would do exactly as it must.

“It would be best if I sought help while you stayed here.” Gavin looked up from his place which was sat on the ground in the old abandoned house, away from the blizzard and the windchill despite the air gushing in through a few broken windows. Luckily an empty house meant a few commodities, so he managed to scrap a blanket and some stale crackers that he _hoped_ would get him by until help arrived.

“Tch, yeah, sure, and get yourself frozen up?” It was half in deflection of his own desire not to be _left alone_ and half a solid truth, as he knew androids could only tolerate extreme temperatures to a certain extent, and only so long.

“If your GPS isn’t working, there’s no way you’ll find a way back and we’ll _both_ end up lost.” The amount of emotion in his tone almost came as a surprise to him, as he unintentionally spoke of the android as if it were another person on his side – a strange habit, and a difficult one to dismiss, considering how Cyberlife designed them to replicate humans seemingly as well as physically possible.

As much as Connor wanted to deny the fact, take the matter into its own hands and do something to solve it, unfortunately, Gavin was right, and it, too, would have to stay behind for the sake of the survival and safety of both of them. Standing idly in the middle of the room, it looked around, doing a scan over the area to see if it could find anything useful for the sake of getting out of or fixing their unfortunate predicament, but it seemed as though their best bet might be letting the storm pass; but how long that would take was indeterminate without access to weather information, and Michigan’s climate was already unpredictable _before_ irreversible global warming took effect. Turning to face Gavin, it figured it might as well do a quick analysis of his physical statistics, the only oddity registering to it being his heightened heartrate and blood pressure from the caffeine, and low oxygen from the “occasional” cigarette, considering he wasn’t in the worst health for a smoker and had minimal nicotine in his system.

While the physical ‘symptoms’ that showed up on its internal screen made sense, there was a strange look in Gavin’s eyes that seemed unusual to it, and after a few more seconds of processing, it came to the understanding that the increased heartrate wasn’t only from the coffee, but reading the expression on his face and the dilation in his eyes, it acknowledged he was _afraid._ Blinking twice, its LED shifted to yellow and rotated twice while its coding shuffled through a few suggested prompts, before picking one and adding the rest to its list of objectives for after the fact. There was a flicker in the corner of its programming as the _software instability_ testing rose with signature blue Cyberlife arrows, something it knew it should be ‘concerned’ about, but temporarily dismissed.

“Once it isn’t blizzarding as immensely, I will attempt to contact someone again. We were able to get out this far, so as soon as anyone knows we’re here, they probably can, too,” it stated in its meager attempts at reassurance. Gavin was already difficult to keep calm, and times like this it was reminded that the action wouldn’t go as smoothly as it often expected, or foolishly hoped for.

“It’ll still take them hours, just like it did with us,” Gavin groused with a scowl.

“There is nothing I can do about that,” Connor responded in a sterner tone than its usual polite cadence, but nonetheless, it stepped its toes into the metaphorical water and physically trekked over to Gavin, crouching down before sitting awkwardly beside him, knees jutting out as long legs crossed in front of it. Gavin watched with as much amusement as he could from the stiff, awkward ways that Connor moved about; literally robotic, and part of why he found the damn things so _funny_.

“Listen, detective,” Connor opened, and Gavin snapped his jaws shut with a wary glare, but didn’t interrupt.

“I realize I haven’t exactly been your favorite person on the team, but I have done nothing but try to help you since I was put on this case. While I don’t appreciate your aggressive demeanor towards me, I’m willing to temporarily set it aside if you are.” Gavin’s irritated expression fell, and Connor offered the slightest twitch in one corner of its lip with one of those goofy, but subtle, crooked smiles. Gavin huffed through his nostrils, avoiding eye contact by averting his gaze to the side as he pulled his folded arms closer to him, bringing his legs up to rest his elbows and his head on his knees as he bunched up to try and get warmer.

“Truce?” Connor reached a hand over in an offer to shake, and Gavin almost couldn’t _believe_ how many mechanisms must have been built into this machine to make it as formal as it was. As little as he knew about android functionality overall, he supposed it wouldn’t _hurt_ either of them to respond in a good way, even as a ‘test’.

“Yeah, whatever, but only until we get out of this.” Taking its hand in his own, he took a second to tune in on the sensation of shaking hands with an android, something he had never done before, only to find himself surprised with how _real_ it felt. While he knew those hands were synthetic, they held the average warmth of an adult human, and he remembered they had some kind of interior heating system to replicate the warm-bloodedness of a mammal. Artificial lungs that pumped air through without actively changing the chemicals as humans’ would with surrounding air, a fake heart that pumped liquid chemicals, identifiably manmade with how the texture seemed to glisten like pixels on a screen, but a ‘fresh’ liquid and one that was _very real_ even if it disappeared from human sight after so long. Strange, eerie, unusual, but despite being well aware the android was but plastic, metal, cables and bolts, the warmth and skin-like texture of its hand, the firm grip, and the double-shake with a medium firmness suddenly seemed much more fluid and less awkward than the android’s other typical actions in Gavin’s mind.

For a moment, he wondered what it was like in their ‘minds,’ being sentient enough but still having to follow orders, to do what you told them to, except granted a precious _gift_ of pseudo-immortality, considering they could metaphorically come back from the dead, looking exactly the same before, fresh and new and whole again. It was unusual and strikingly _inhuman_ compared to the other details, down to the clean-shaven look of the pores on Connor’s face—_wait,_ how long had he been staring at it so closely? Longer than he was aware of, he assumed by the curious, puzzled look Connor gave him, and he let go of its hand when he withdrew, wearing one of his typical frowns as he surveyed the android for its reaction, noticing the particular quirks in its facial features as its eyebrows twitched upward, then lowered, and the way its opticals flickered by a millimeter as they looked between both of his own, meaning it was maintaining eye contact; another strange and overall _human_ aspect of the android’s behavior. The amount of details that blended between android actions and human-like _interactions_ seemed to be what blurred so smoothly it subtly settled into the human psyche, and he knew he wasn’t the only one that had difficulty maintaining the act of treating them for exactly what they were, and _nothing_ else, despite Kamski and Cyberlife’s clear attempts to make them into nothing more than friendly faces with wires and chips instead of veins and brains.

One the other hand, a few more moments of thought made him come to the conclusion he’d looked past the more ‘natural’ attributes because of the pure hatred he had for the things, trying to mentally adjust as his mind shifted through thoughts, opinions, constructions of Connor’s place in the world and how he’d previously feared it could swipe the job from under his feet. Now it was on the job _with_ him, working _for_ him rather than replacing him, and the dynamic suddenly seemed easier to manage, as if Connor wasn’t something he’d hated with a passion, feeling the conscience difference as he thought back over to Hank and how he, too, had a change of heart over his time of working with Connor – was this what that was like? For a moment he thought that perhaps the RK800 was as charming as it was programmed to be, but dismissed the idea as he didn’t want to give _it_ that much credit for something he’d decided on himself.

Gavin supposed the shift of mentality might have been due to his own refusal to accept any other impression of the androids in the first place. The change was definitely bizarre to him and seemed rather sudden, but maybe if he paid closer attention to Connor while it was on ‘his team’, he thought of the possibility of putting together a better understanding of Connor, and perhaps androids in general – for better or worse.

Connor, on the other hand, as was its nature, didn’t feel much at all despite the typical pre-programmed reactionary responses that cued itself in on how to interact with its surroundings. _Software instabilities_ still occurred, but not often enough to sway it towards deviancy, for the time being. Still, it could tell that Gavin’s behavior had changed, even in the slightest degree, and couldn’t help a sense of ‘gratitude’ for the sake of appreciating the newfound ease, even if he’d snap back into his old habits sooner or later.

Connor looked him over with calculated eyes, and his own wandered to look at the model number that seemed to glow on the android's jacket, a visual indicator alongside the bright blue pixelated triangle on the other side of the particularly designed jacket with "ANDROID" flashing across the back. If the LED on the right side of its forehead wasn't an obvious indicator, Cyberlife ensured _you knew_ they sent the android to aid in the investigation.

For a moment, Gavin thought back to Lieutenant Anderson, thinking over how his behavior and overall personality had changed over the years, from the birth of his son to his unfortunate loss; the way he'd grown tired, aggressive and sarcastic in his aged years on the team. Overall, he couldn't blame him, personally stuck in the awkward ages between 35 and 40 and feeling like he was too young to have a midlife crisis, but too old to ultimately drag attention over the fact he felt _anything_ about his age.

RK800 had the physical characteristics of someone around his time of life, but he couldn't pinpoint an exact number of years; guessing someone's record of experience was impossible with an android. "Connor" was only six months old total in design, but it had come back repeatedly after "severe damages" and noticeably _increased_ Hank's depression by doing so. The idea of being able to come back in a fresh, new shell every time you so much as got shot or fell from a ladder was ultimately _depressing_, and the entire department felt it when their _immortal_ teammate returned to solve the most dangerous of cases all over again.

Repeatedly. Over and over, he'd seen those brown, artificial eyes tracking him, the expressionless look on its face, the awkward twitch of its eyebrows and the infamous LED always blinking, turning yellow, calculating, _uploading_. It was disgusting by sight alone, and he couldn't blame Hank for how he felt over the matter -- and thus didn't blame him when he did, finally, quit the force, secretly thinking _it was a long time coming_ once he'd had a mouthful with Fowler over his ever-growing pile of 'warnings', even though his boss refused to do anything, let alone fire him; so Hank had taken it into his own hands to "take care of it himself."

Everyone had, one way or another, seen the suicide coming. Sumo was put up for adoption while there was a tense, still silence across the entire department. Hank's well-known friends had become quiet, unfriendly out of pure shock and no idea what to do with the fact that it really did _happen_.

Lo and behold, as the next detective down the career ladder, they'd put Connor with him as a permanent asset; needless to say, he wasn't pleased, but ultimately made the decision to stop riddling it with bullet holes in favor it being a hassle as well as another cruel reminder. In turn, the death had affected him more than he expected it to. As he assumed, the supposedly flawless android was ultimately unphased by something deeply disturbing by the humans.

"Any luck on tracking location?" The android paused, LED rotating yellow before blinking three times while it attempted to utilize its tracker, to no avail.

"No," it responded flatly. Gavin sighed.

-

The day progressed into evening, then a cold night, the blizzard ongoing all the while.

"I've managed to maintain a connection to the department," Connor stated, rousing Gavin from his shallow slumber and rumbling snore with a startled gasp that hitched in his throat.

"Oh, good. Sending someone?" Connor hesitated, glancing in the direction of the building as it tried to transfer information, with little avail as its LED rotated and blinked yellow and blue repeatedly.

"I..._had_ managed a connection," it reluctantly admitted in defeat. Gavin's eyebrows quickly scrunched in skeptic disbelief.

"You fuckin' kidding me?" Sighing, he rolled his eyes, staring out the nearest window as his vision settled on the bittersweet, crisp snow continuously falling from the sky.

"Unfortunately not," it replied honestly with a disappointed tone to its voice, and for a moment Gavin wondered how thin the line between machines and deviants really was.

"Fuck. It's freezing and I'm starved," he complained, running a hand through his hair and scowling at the greasy texture collected from the days without showering. Connor glanced at him with a gaze of thought, LED continuing to cycle as the android continued its attempts to link up with Wi-Fi and telephone signals nearby.

"As my internal temperature is set to replicate the 98.8° Fahrenheit that is average human body temperature, I unfortunately can’t aid you in the means of warmth, let alone food.” It was frustrating; the android was designed to serve, protect, to _help_, and even if it was only default programming, being unable to follow through with it felt self-defeating, similar to the sinking mock-dread of a _failed mission_. Had it failed? _Had it failed Gavin_?

“Ugh, it’s fine,” he retorted, even if the disdain still filled his voice, “I just can’t wait to get home to my bed with hot coffee and a meal.” Closing his eyes, he dragged a hand down his face, taking in the sensation of pulling skin for what it was. Bodily contact with an android was already a foreign and uncomfortable idea, but he couldn’t stop thinking of the way it mentioned body temperature. Was it suggesting _physical touch_ or was he overthinking? Likely the latter.

“Not like I’m going to _snuggle_ you or something.” Connor blinked, turning its head, and suddenly his cheeks reddened with heat of embarrassment as he realized just how _bizarre_ that statement came across. His mind had entered an odd, uncomfortable place he was quick to shy away from as soon as the android looked at him, swallowing as he planted his palms on the ground and lowered his shoulders in a moment of anxiety.

“Physical contact may contribute to a slight raise in temperature, yes, but not enough to make it necessary.” To Connor, the comment was out of the blue covering left field, eyebrows wavering with their usual twitches, before they lowered over narrowed eyes as it looked at him with a rather stern, skeptical expression now on its face.

“However, I didn’t consider it before, but my jacket may help you collect body heat if you layer it over your own.” It was true; the Cyberlife jacket was thick with waterproof cloth so the rain would slide right off like the feathers of a duck, only soaking the surface enough to make the fabric darken and shine even in heavier storms.

Gavin stared, pausing, thinking of the _practicality_ of the situation. The android was right, after all, even if he didn’t want to admit it; it’d grant more warmth than he had, and it would be fitted a few sizes bigger, leaving him with little argument while his body shivered, clattering his teeth.

“Yeah, give me that,” he demanded, watching as Connor rather nonchalantly shed the clothing from its shoulders, leaving behind the white long-sleeve buttonup shirt that snugly fit its physical frame. The tie it seemed to constantly adjust in a smug, prim manner, the same way it flattened its lapels or ran its fingers along the sides of its slicked-back hair, occasionally checking its reflection in the mirror – another odd behavior that seemed completely unnecessary to install, in his opinion.

Still, for the time being, he had to wait the night through. Connor settled beside him with a respectable distance while it closed its eyes, leaning back against the same wall. Momentarily feeling better, Gavin closed his eyes as well, curling up on himself as he drifted back off to sleep.

-

“Gavin,” the android prompted, voice enlightened with something similar to _excitement_ as it reached to grab his shoulder and gently shake it, firm enough to stir him from unconsciousness once more.

“There is help coming. They should be here in the next fifteen minutes. The storm has cleared, and I’ve managed to re-link with the DPD and Cyberlife.” Offering a soft smile, it held out its hand for him to take; blinking up at it, he still felt himself lost in a half-asleep daze, blinking at the android’s attire as it was left in its dress suit and tie, before glancing down at the layered RK800 jacket over his own and remembering—quickly jolting awake as he recoiled from Connor, scowling at it and prompting it to cast an unamused gaze.

“…Oh. Right.” Sighing, he reached out to take Connor’s hand for the sake of _ease_, letting it pull him to his feet as he stretched his back with the heavy popping of vertebrae cartilage and a long, drawn-out yawn. Sighing, he pulled Connor’s jacket from his shoulders, feeling warmer now that the sun had peeked through the clouds, handing it back as he was insistent that he didn’t wind up being seen with it on. Connor slid it back on over its arm, carefully slipping it through as it pulled the jacket over that shoulder, then the next, re-fitting it to its bodily form with an adjustment of the lapels and a tightening of its tie, _just as it always did._

“Now that that’s over with, _let’s get outta here_.”


End file.
